


Pretend I Put A Song Lyric

by Anonymous



Category: Sheena (2000)
Genre: Brief description of animal injury, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 10:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30053913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Listen man if youre desperate enough that you looked for Sheena fanfic it’ll be good enough for you.
Collections: Anonymous





	Pretend I Put A Song Lyric

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s the deal: I watched this crappy tv shows because I’m a big fan of crappy tv and somehow became emotionally invested enough to write a couple thousand words about it. No I will not post this from my account because I am ashamed thank you for your time.

It’s safe to say Cutter has dreamt about Sheena being on top of him more than a few times, but those dreams are usually a lot more naked and a lot less violent. Usually. He was pretty sure this wasn’t one of those dreams either. For one thing, he’s never so damn tired he’s dreaming.

She’s leaning across him, shaking him roughly and telling him to wake up, but Cutter is having a hard time focusing on the specifics because it’s- he takes a second to squint at the clock by his- 3:00 in the morning. Hell, he only went to sleep two hours ago.

“Sheena, what the hell is going on?” he says, attempting to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

“Hurry up and get dressed.” She tosses him a shirt that he catches only out of reflexes. “I need your truck.”

“What? Why?” He actually looks at her and notices that something seems off. She looks messier than usual and frazzled and there’s something dark staining the side of her dress. It looks like blood. He shoots up immediately and grabs her arm, stilling her. “Are you okay?”

She follows his gaze to the stain on her dress and waved her hand dismissively. “It’s not mine. There’s a friend of mine and she’s been shot.”

“Who, Kali? One of the villagers?”

“No.” He breathes a sigh of relief. “She’s a leopard. And if we don’t get her to Kali soon she’ll die, so get up.”

He squints at her. All this trouble over a cat. “Are you sure it can’t wait?”

This is the wrong thing to say. She whips towards and she looks about a second away from punching him in the face. 

“Cutter. If you don’t get in the car in the next minute I will take your truck and drive myself.” To emphasize the point she holds up the keys (where the hell did she get the keys) and shakes them in front of his face before turning on her heel and walking out the door.

It’s a threat, pure and simple. He’s been trying to teach her to drive in his free time because she’s been pestering him to do it. The main problem is she’s a terrible student and she seems determined to try to drive into all the potholes and bumps and, on one notable occasion, Rashids she can find. Mendelsohn’s had to repair the transmission twice now and he’s made it clear that he’s not going to do it a third time without a raise.

He takes a second and weighs his options. On one hand, it’s U.S. military and Cutter policy to not negotiate with terrorists and if she goes off on her own he can go back to sleep. On the other hand, he really likes that truck and Sheena isn’t the type to make empty threats.

He stares longingly at his pillow, comes pretty close to stroking it wistfully. Then he pulls on his shirt and grabs a jacket as he runs out the door. 

Driving in the jungle at night is ten kinds of dangerous and eight kinds of stupid, so Cutter spends most of the drive watching the the space ahead of him so he doesn’t ram into a tree or worse, an animal, and trying to keep himself awake. Sheena is no help. While she’d normally be sitting in the back of the truck, he needs her to tell him where exactly they’re going. She sits in the passenger seat and, aside from the occasional terse direction, she’s silent. When he glances over at her (more than he should, less than he’d like to) she’s gnawing at her lip with her teeth. She’s more worried than he’s seen her be about anything short of a tribal war and to be honest it’s freaking him out.

He just doesn’t get it. He’s been with her for dozens of wounded animals and she’s always handled it well enough. Angry and worried sure, but never as close to falling apart like she is now.

He figures, like always with Sheena, that if he wants to get to the root of the problem he’s going to have to be the emotionally mature one (and God help them all when he’s the emotionally mature one) and asks. “So, spill. What’s so special about this leopard?”

“Spill?” she asks. He knows for a fact she’s deflecting because he’s already explained the meaning to her at least once, but he plays along.

“Talk. Explain. Elaborate. Spill.” She looks away from him and stares out the window. For a second he’s pretty sure she’s shut down completely and they’re going to spend the rest of the ride in silence, but then she speaks.

“Her name is Aza. I’ve known her since I was a teenager. One day I was on an errand for Kali, delivering goods to a nearby village when I was attacked by a rogue. I was cornered and injured pretty badly. I thought I was going to die, and then she came out of nowhere and saved me. Got pretty banged up in the process too. We’ve been friends ever since and if something happens to her I’d-“ Sheena cuts herself off. He’s utterly lost as to why until he hears what’s unmistakably a sniffle. He risks looking away from the road for a long period of time to try to study her and in the dim light he can just make out tears on her face before she swipes them away angrily. 

If this were any other girl he’d give in to the cliche. He’d lean over and wipe away the tears and offer to kiss the pain better and nine times out of ten she’d probably let him. They’d probably sleep together and he would spend the rest of time trying to avoid seeing her again to make everything less awkward or make any real commitment. But for better or worse Sheena is different. Their relationship is different. As much as he’d love to kiss her he knows that what she actually needs is a friend right now and he’ll do his best to give her that.

Cutter, you don’t understand. I haven’t lost a friend like this since other name.” And it all comes together. Cutter’s no psychologist, but he recognizes basic displacement when he sees it. She’s taking all her guilt and regret over something she couldn’t stop a long time ago and bringing it into the here and now and if she’s not careful it’s going to eat her alive. Cutter knows that all too well.

He puts a hand on her arm. “Listen to me, Sheena. She’s going to be okay.”

“How do you know that?” 

“Because she’s got you looking out for her.” 

“You really mean that?” 

“Of course.” 

She tries to smile, but it’s more of a baring of teeth. Still, he can feel the sentiment behind it, can tell she really is thankful and takes what he can get. He smiles back and damn if he doesn’t fall a little bit more in love with her in that moment. They have a very cheesy Hallmark movie moment that’s broken when he catches a tree out of the corner of his eye and has to swerve sharply to avoid slamming into it.

Sheena raises an eyebrow at him. “Just, uh, making sure you were staying awake.”

She rolls her eyes, but all she says is, “Keep your eyes on the road, Cutter. I wouldn’t want something dangerous to happen.”

Too late.

She settles back down and stays silent, but the mood of the truck has been lifted significantly. He does all he can to keep it that way, driving faster than any sane man should and clipping more than a couple plants. They make quick time and soon enough Sheena starts squinting at the ground in front of them. She’s practically pressed against the windshield until she finds what she’s looking for. “Up there,” she says pointing to a dark mound laying dead ahead. It isn’t moving.

“Stop.” She’s out of the car before it's even finished braking. Cutter slams on the brakes and skids a good couple of feet, swinging the cab of the truck so it’s facing Sheena and scrambles out of the car.

Sheena is crouched over Aza’s body, stroking the side of her face tenderly. For a second he thinks that they’re too late and this is just another weight that she’ll add to the sky she’s already carrying on her shoulders. Thankfully, when he looks closer, he can see the minuscule rise and fall of her chest. The breathing is labored and the space between each seems to take longer each time. There’s a crude bandage over a wound on her side, but it’s long since bled through, with blood trickling out of the sides even now. One eye seems to be trying to open, but she can’t quite summon the strength so she peers at him and Sheena under heavy eyelids. She looks like hell, plain and simple. 

Sheena strokes her head one more time before standing up from the crouch and turning to Cutter. “Alright, help me lift her into the truck.”

He pauses. He wants to help in any way he can, he really does, he’s just worried about adding any more injuries to the mix, especially if they’re his. “Is it safe? Can we get like, a stretcher or something.” 

“Cutter.” She has a way of looking at him sometimes that makes him feel like a scolded child and she’s looking at him like that now. “She’s barely weak enough to move. You’ll be fine. Now hurry.”

She’s wrong because apparently the world would stop turning if Cutter went through a day without getting injured. Halfway through the lift the Aza wakes up and, clearly disoriented, she lashes out at the closest thing to her. Which happens to be Cutter. The end result is less of a gentle lift and more of an awkward drop that causes Aza to let out a cry of pain. Cutter knows the feeling. 

He assesses the injury and finds three nasty gashes lacerating his arm. With his luck, he’ll need stitches. Actually, with his luck he’ll need an amputation. His inspection is interrupted by Sheena.

“What the hell was that?” she yells at him. She’s crouched over Aza and inspecting her for any further damage.

“What the hell was what?” he asks in return. She better not mean what he thinks she means.

“You dropped her!” She means it.

“What are you mad at me for? She’s the one who clawed me!”

“You should‘ve handled it!”

“I did handle it! I handled it right in my arm!” He gestures at the cuts scoring his arm and is greeted by the knowledge that they’re already bleeding heavily. 

“Don’t be such a child!”

“A child?” He asks back incredulously.

She cuts him off before he can find the words to continue. “We don't have time for this. We’re close to the village, you should be able to find it from here. I’m going to stay with Aza, make sure that she doesn’t get anymore hurt.” She says the last bit with a pointed glance before pulling herself into the back of the truck with all the grace of an Olympic athlete. 

He climbs back into the driver’s seat and decides to make sure he doesn’t pass out from blood loss on the trip back (it’s possible he’s being overdramatic, but hey, sue him, this hasn’t exactly been his morning). He pulls off his jacket, careful to not rub against the wound and irritate it further and then he rips off a strip of fabric with his teeth. He wraps it around his arm to make his own makeshift bandage before he awkwardly tries to tie it and pull it tight one handed. It’s a damn shame, he really liked that jacket. He’s putting the final touches on adjusting it when Sheena bangs her hand quickly and forcibly against the back of the truck. He gets the message and yells “I’m going!” before shifting into drive and slamming on the gas.

He should be used to feeling this when he’s around Sheena. It always seems like he ends up angry or confused or both and right now it’s a definite case of the latter. He hauls ass with her in the middle of the goddamn night to pick up an animal he’s never even heard of, an animal that injures him he might add, and she’s pissed at him for being a little rough. He’s pretty sure he’s not in the wrong here. Man, he doesn’t understand women.

She’s right about one thing though: they are close to the village. It’s a much faster drive than it was to get to Aza and in no time they’re pulling up. Sheena must have alerted them somehow because he can see Kali as well as a couple of the medics standing in front of the crowd of people. He comes to a screeching stop just a few feet in front of them.

A couple of the guys have a stretcher waiting and a few of them, along with Sheena, hop into the cab of the truck to lift Aza down into it. Any of the fight she’d reserved for Cutter had faded and she simply lays there docilely, eyes barely fluttering open before closing again. He feels a stab of guilt about dropping her. Sheena was right, as per usual, he couldn’t afford to have caused any further damage.

Kali directs everyone with the grace and skill of a seasoned conductor. The men with the stretcher get sent to a tent that’s been prepared for her, a couple of the younger girls that work with her occasionally get sent to gather herbs and plants that Kali might need, and, once Cutter gets out of the truck to see if he can help out with anything, he gets sent to another tent to get some sleep.

When he protests she cuts him off. “You have done your part, Cutter. Now it is my turn. Get some rest while you still can. And have somebody take a look at that arm.” She turns and heads off to fight her next great battle against death with a look in her eyes that almost makes him pity anything that tries to take Aza away from her. Almost. Sheena trails behind her and for a second she pauses, like she wants to say something to him, but she stays silent and walks away from him too, leaving him standing in the middle of the village alone.

The tell tale sticky warmth of something dripping down the side of his arm tells him that he’s probably bled through his makeshift bandage and a quick glance down tells him he’s right. Wonderful.

He searches the sea of faces around him for someone who can help and finally flags down Taya, one of the villagers he’s more friendly with. He’s on the younger side, with an easygoing nature and a wicked sense of humor. He’s pretty sure no one there exactly trusts him, but he's always been pretty friendly with Taya and usually manages to sneak him the odd book or two when he comes to visit. 

Taya’s been on enough hunting trips to know an animal induced when he sees one and knows exactly what to do. He takes Cutter to his tent where a salve is applied to stop the bleeding and a proper bandage is put on. The whole process takes less than five minutes and he yawns through all of it. When he tries to leave to go sleep in his truck, Taya won’t have it.

“Take my bed.”

“I don’t want to put you out.”

“I’m not using it.” He pushes Cutter down gently by the shoulders and it really is so much more comfortable than his truck and he really is tired. “Besides, maybe you can pay me back by bringing me some more, uh, mature books the next time you come to visit?”

Emotional blackmail. He’s teaching this kid well. He has enough energy left in him to roll his eyes and shoo Taya away before he drifts off to sleep.

It’s a good night’s rest, deep and dreamless. It’s the type of rest he doesn’t get often. He wishes he could sleep the rest of the day like that. Still, his military training has a tendency to take over after stressful situations and he finds himself up and wide awake with the sun. He knows any attempt to go back to sleep is futile so he sits up and stretches his back a little, reveling in each individual crack of the vertebrae. This bed has no right to be this damn comfortable and he wants to savor every second of it.  
He’s in the middle of some twisting and turning and general basic contorting when he spots a note on the ground. He recognizes Kali’s telltale looping handwriting instantly. It’s short and to the point, simply reading “Aza is fine. Sheena is in the truck. Talk to her.”

Cutter’s never been one to disobey an order from Kali, so after a few more seconds of memorizing how comfortable the bed is he hauls himself out and goes Sheena hunting. 

Stepping outside, the glare hits him dead in the eyes. It’s just on the cusp of peaking over the trees and it’s a sight to behold. He puts a hand over his eyes and tries to spot his truck. Apparently, someone must have moved it so it was no longer smack in the middle of the village. It’s on the other side of the camp now and Cutter starts the short trek over, only slowing down for the occasional wave to one of the people he knows.

Sheena’s sitting right where Kali said she would be, perched on the back of the truck with her knees pulled up to her chest and watching the sun rise. 

“How’s Aza?”

She jumps, just a little, and actually looks surprised to see him. He can’t remember the last time he snuck up on her, if he ever has. It’s a strange feeling. “Good. If all goes well she’ll be ready to go in a couple of days.” She cocks her head, looking a little abashed. “How’s the arm?”

He hops up onto the back of the truck next to her and holds it up so she can inspect it. She grabs his wrist to steady him, looks at it closely, then pokes the injury. He gives an exaggerated wince and Sheena pokes him harder in return. “Oh, about the same. Give me a couple days and I’ll be good as new.”

She nods, more to herself than as a response to what he said. She looks away from him and says, “I’m sorry.”

It’s not often he gets an apology from her and a small, juvenile part of him wants to hold it over her for a little bit. But never let it be said that Matt Cutter didn’t know how to be an okay guy every once in a blue moon. “Don’t be. I probably could’ve handled it better myself.”

She doesn’t seem to hear him. “I was just so worried and I-“

He cuts her off. “Sheena, it’s fine. Really. Besides, the cuts are going to leave a really badass scar and you know how women feel about badass scars.”

“Oh really,” she says playfully, leaning towards him.. “How do women feel about badass scars?”

“Oh, they can’t get enough of them.” When she scoffs he continues valiantly on. “Why do you think they’re always flocking to Mendelsohn? The man looks like a human pincushion.”

She actually lets out a laugh and gives him the first real smile he’d seen from her all morning and he’d be damned if it didn’t put the sunrise to shame. He wants to kiss her. He always wants to kiss her, but in that moment he wants to do it more than anything, cat scratches and early wake up calls and all. But he knows Sheena and knows just this once he should take it slow.

Maybe he’s hoping that his injury has earned him some pity, but he takes her hand in his and laces their fingers together. He’s careful not to look at her when he does it (keep your eyes on the road, Cutter). He doesn’t want to see her face if she turns him down. But instead of giving him the whole “it’s not you, it’s me” schtick or even letting go, she squeezes his hand back and keeps holding it. And after a couple seconds she rests her head on his shoulder and they stare off at the horizon together. She sure knows how to pick her spots; it’s a beautiful sunrise.

It’s starting to look like a damn good day.

**Author's Note:**

> I dedicate this work to both Gena Lee Nolin and John Allen Nelson’s fat fat titties.


End file.
